The Seventh Wolf
by dorky-things
Summary: Catelyn has left King's Landing and is on her way to the Eyrie with Tyrion Lannister as her prisoner. But she is just realizing that the memento of her last encounter with her husband would stay with her for much longer than she would have expected.
1. Chapter 1

Her hands were shivering while she held the reins as tight as she could. Still she felt as if she was not holding them at all. The nauseated feeling in her stomach made her sweat. She felt weak, tired and numb.

"Everything alright, Mylady?", Ser Rodrik asked.

She barely managed a nod. Without waiting for any other reaction, he called their party to a halt: "We've been riding long enough. Let us rest for now."

Catelyn slid from the back of her horse, as if there was neither bone nor muscle left in her body, and she would have sunk to the ground if Ser Rodrik had not been there to hold her.

"Thank you", she whispered and finally managed to get onto her feet.

"You're looking pale, Mylady. You should sit down and drink."

He guided her to a rock planted in the ground, where she sat down, and handed her her bottle of water. Tyrion was watching them from a distance with a strange mix of suspicion and bewilderment.

"Don't worry", Ser Rodrik said, "We will have reached the Eyrie soon. There we will find a medic to take care of you."

But she shook her head, softly but decisively, without looking at him.

"There's no need for that, Ser. I am not ill. It's something different…"


	2. Chapter 2

She knew what it was. She knew it very well. She had been through this five times before, and each time it had been exactly the same. Should she share her secret with him? Or rather keep it to herself for a little longer? She would not be able to hold it back forever, that was for sure. She could use somebody to talk to. And a wise man's advise.

Allowing her gaze to get lost in the distance, she suppressed any kind of facial expression that could reveal the importance of the message she was about to deliver to those curiously watching them from the corner of their eyes. Finally she said: "I am with child."

It took a while until he found the words to respond. And she could almost hear the sounds of her words sinking deep into his consciousness.

"Are you sure about this?"

"I am."

"But… How… Who?"

She breathed in and out, as calmly as she could, desperately battling for control over her body, trying to convince herself that he had not just asked this impertinent question.

"My husband", she replied, „Is that such a curious thing? How dare you…"

"Not at all, Mylady! But, when…"

"I have just been with him, haven't I?"

"When did you even…"

"There was enough time!", she concluded, finally twisting her head to look at him, putting an end to this disgraceful discussion with one stern look.

He sighed and signalled her with a barely noticeable nod that he had understood.

"I beg your pardon, Mylady", he murmured with discontent, "but I am afraid I cannot congratulate you on this fortunate turn of events."

She allowed her face to curl into an irritated frown, when Bronn came walking towards them to say they should better keep going.


	3. Chapter 3

That night they met again, a distance away from where the rest of their entourage was sleeping. She looked at her trusted friend. But the night was so dark that she failed to even catch the silhouette of his face.

"Tell me, please", she whispered, her voice not more than a swift breath of air ruffling through the grass, "What is it that bothers you?" 

He took a moment to put his thoughts into order, searching for the right words. Finally he said: "This babe should never have been conceived, Milady."

"But… Why?"

She was not angry or hurt. She just really wanted to know. She wanted to understand.

"People will start to wonder. Maybe not yet. But soon. They know it has been too long since your husband left Winterfell."

"But I was…"

He shook his head as he interrupted her, which she could not see: "No one knows about that. And no one ever can."

"Why?" she sighed with a slight taste of resignation.

"Your visit to King's Landing was secret. They didn't know. The Lannisters… the King… If they ever find out, they will want to know why you were there. And why you hadn't been announced. They will start asking questions, Mylady. And too many questions are the last thing your husband needs right now." 

Suddenly he started to make sense. She felt it creeping through her body like a hungry animal. She saw it now, but she was fighting it with all her might.

"No one must know that Lord Stark is the father", Ser Rodrik resumed.

Now, finally he saw something of her. He saw a quiver. She was starting to feel sick but tried to keep her composure as well as she could.

"And how is that supposed to work? Who else should it be?"

"It could be anyone, Mylady."

"Anyone?" she yelled as loud as she could while still whispering as softly as the wind, "I am Lady Stark of Winterfell, and I don't carry the child of "anyone"! This is madness! Everybody knows that I would never betray my husband, no matter how far away he is."

She took a deep breath and added: "I could never put him through what he put me through…"

"You will risk his life if you don't. Is his well-being not more important to you than his reputation? Or your own?"

She grabbed his arm as she desperately needed something to hold on to. Otherwise she felt as if she was about to faint. 

"Are you telling me", she asked after a moment, her voice faithlessly shaking, "that there really is no other way than this?"

"If the babe lives…"

"… Which it will!"

She looked at him with stern eyes, even though he probably was not able to see it. This incomprehensible thought was not even to cross his mind. Ever again. Even if, indeed, it might be the easiest solution of all.

"Then, Mylady", Ser Rodrik concluded, "I am afraid there is no other way."

He bowed his head in sympathy, then turned around and slowly walked back.


	4. Chapter 4

"Enough of that! For now, I don't wanna hear another word of that Targaryan whore and her brat!" King Robert dismissed the subject with a simple stroke of his hand, like a tedious fly.

"What else?" 

Varys folded his hands and cleared his throat. And whenever he did that, he usually had more news to tell.

"I beg your pardon, Your Grace. But I'm afraid there is yet another offspring we will have to decide on how to deal with."

"What do you mean?"

"There are rumours… Apparently, the Lady Stark of Winterfell is with child as well." 

Ned felt a tremor rolling through his body. He raised his head and looked at him, holding his breath. Varys looked back at Ned, as did everybody else, his face completely void of any kind of expression.

"Is that certain?" he gasped.

Varys nodded: "Yes, Mylord."

"How far along is she?" asked Petyr.

"It cannot be far. It is not yet evident." 

There was a moment of silence. Then a chuckle built up inside of the king's belly and quickly grew into blustering laughter.

"Catelyn", he snorted, "You naughty, little lady! Just when your husband was barely even out of sight…"

Ned lowered his head, breathing heavily, desperately trying to find out what to make of this. He then lifted his gaze just for a moment to exchange looks with Petyr, begging for his silence. 

Pycelle intervened: "How many children does Lady Stark have?"

"Five", Petyr said, then quickly added, "But Lord Stark already has six."

He shot a triumphant smirk at Ned. He knew very well that his bastard was by far his rival's greatest flaw. And even in the darkest hour of man he would still be able to find deep satisfaction in this.

Robert took a sip of wine and wiped his mouth with his hand. Then he broke the silence: "Don't piss yourselves! The child isn't Ned's."

"How do you know that?" Renly frowned.

"It can't be! He hasn't fucked his wife in ages. The child would almost have to be born by now."

"But if it is not Lord Stark…", Pycelle wondered, "Then who is the father?"

Varys recalled what he had been told: "They say it was a blacksmith from the Riverlands." 

Now, finally Ned awoke from his paralysed state. He clenched his fists under the table in a desperate attempt to control his anger and hissed: "My wife would never bed a common blacksmith!"

"Very well, then", Jaime finally joined in the discussion, "If she favours noblemen, then the father can only be my brother! Maybe that's why she is so eager to keep his company."

"You little…" Ned started but managed to bite his tongue.

Jaime smiled and patted his shoulder: "I understand that you're mad, dear friend. But look at it this way: You already have a bastard. Now grant the woman her part of the fun!"

"Stop it, Jaime!" Robert commanded, but his brother-in-law would not listen and kept teasing him.

"Maybe she will even have a girl! And when she's older, her bastard can marry your bastard, and all is well in Winterfell!"

"That's enough!" Robert shouted again banging his fist on the table, just in time to prevent Ned from finally jumping out of his skin.

And suddenly it was eerily quiet, the air impregnated with fury. 

Pycelle finally returned to the main question at hand: „So, what do we do about the prophecy?"

"Didn't you hear me, old man?" Robert sighed, exhausted by this subject, "The prophecy can suck my balls! The child isn't Ned's. End of story."

"No, but maybe he's right", Jaime objected with a nasty grin on his lips, a brutal satisfaction glowing in his chest, "What if it was his, somehow? Maybe we should not take any risks. There is too much at stake. I say… Let's kill Daenerys Targaryen. And while we're at it… Let's kill that Tully whore!" 

Ned lost it within the blink of an eye. Jaime did not have a chance to duck away before he grabbed his throat to strangle him.

"Now you listen to me, Lannister!" he hissed, his stare burning into his skin, "You can make fun of me as long as you like. But don't you dare to speak about my wife ever again… Ever! Do you hear me?"

Eventually, the other men managed to pull the two apart in a combined effort.

"Have you completely lost your mind?", Robert screamed in an intimidating roar, "Now, piss off, both of you! Get out of my sight!"

He pushed his Hand towards the door dismissing him harshly: "Come back to your senses, boy, and don't show up again before you do!"


	5. Chapter 5

For a while now they had been riding side by side, not saying a word. Then finally, she confronted him: "There is something else… isn't it?"

He did not respond, not even turned his head to look at her.

"We would find a way to explain my secret visit to King's Landing. Somehow, there must be! Without risking my husband's life. This cannot be all there is to it."

Ser Rodrik still showed no reaction. Only his face had grown a little darker.

She shackled him with her eyes, determined not to let go of him before he would speak.

"I see the way you look at me, Ser. Or the way you so frantically avoid it. And you haven't spoken to me since I told you. If not for trying to persuade me to give up, let go of Lannister and return to Winterfell, over and over again. Why? I know that there is something you're not telling me. And I think I have the right to know what it is."

He looked as if he had not even heard her at all. So much, it even made her wonder whether she had said it out loud. But then, he finally cleared his throat and talked. And the way he spoke, slowly and wearily, foreshadowed that whatever he was about to tell her would not be trivial.

"There… is a prophecy, Mylady. The Prophecy of the Seven."

"The Prophecy of the Seven?", she wondered, "I have never heard of such a thing!"

"You were never meant to, Mylady."


	6. Chapter 6

"Please, tell me now!", she begged, "I need to know! What does that have to do with me or my child?"

He hung his head and collected his thoughts. Yes, he would tell her now. She was right - she needed to know.

"The Prophecy of the Seven says: "When the seventh wolf arrives, the dragon will return and unite with the wolf, to rule and to conquer with ice and fire." In the very old days of course, no one knew what it meant. Then, for a long time it had sunk into oblivion. The dragon already did rule over the Seven Kingdoms. But after the Mad King fell and his children fled to other shores, it crawled back into memory. Of the Baratheons, the Lannisters… Nobody wanted the dragon to ever return. And nobody wants it now. So, it was evident that the wolf should never have more than six children. And your husband agreed to take care of it himself."

"Ned knew about all of this?", she gasped in disbelief, albeit not yet having fully understood what her friend had just been telling her.

He nodded: „He certainly did."

"But… Why are you telling me all this? This is our sixth child, not the seventh."

"It is your sixth child, Mylady…", he replied, "But you are not the wolf."

She felt her head spin and the noise of her vigorously beating heart on her tongue. At this moment, she was angry with Ned. The lack of understanding why he had been keeping this a secret from her for all these years sparked the faint flame of anger she always felt for him.

She swallowed down her heavy breath and asked: "Thus… What does that mean for me?"

"Those who fear the prophecy will want to make sure that your child never comes into this world. But there is hope, however! In the end, the fact that nobody will believe it is you husband's might save your child's life. And maybe even your own."

"Just maybe?"

"Even the wisest of all men will never be able to forecast how much risk those in power are or are not willing to take. I'm sorry, Mylady."

She let go of the reins with one hand an brought it to her still flat stomach, where it rested gently and lovingly.

"I won't let anybody harm this child!" she quietly but confidently declared, "If they want to kill it, they will have to kill me, too."

Ser Rodrik sighed: "That is a very honorable thought, Mylady. But I'm afraid, you will not be of much use to the rest of your family when you're dead."

She turned her head to look at him, then nodded slightly.

"I know I have said this before and I'm going to say it again: Abandon your journey! Free The Imp and return home! Further investigating the attempt on your son's life, whichever conclusion it may bring, is not worth risking your own life. Word of your condition is likely to have reached the capital by now. Your husband will do everything he can to protect you. But you are not safe anymore. You don't belong here on the road, or in the Eyrie. You belong behind the stone walls of your own fortress. And if you don't want to do it for yourself - do it for the sake of the child you are carrying!"

She frantically clawed her fingers into the mane of her horse as she felt her sights vanish and her whole body go numb.

"Ser", she whispered, „please… I need to rest for a moment."


	7. Chapter 7

He found a place to be by himself. To clear the emotional turmoil inside his chest and to think. A little courtyard surrounded by trees. He always felt calm and comfortable around trees, unfortunately they were a rare sight down south in and around the capital.

He sat down in the cool shade and buried his face in his palms, hiding from the world, expelling it from his senses.

He could see nothing but her face. Her smile. The smile on her lips when he had held her close, completely overwhelmed by the surprise of her visit to King's Landing. The smile she had given him just before she left again. It reminded him of the look on her face whenever she had told him that she was again carrying a child. He vividly remembered the moment she had told him about Rickon. He had been unable to think of what the birth of his sixth child would mean back then. He had been overflowed with joy, just like her. Good times, he thought. They might have been the happiest of his life. It had been the long days of summer. War was nothing but a distant memory. Their four older children were growing up splendidly, and they were together. As if nothing could tear them apart, ever again.

And there he was. Not even knowing how many leagues separated him from his love. Was she happy? Was she scared? Was she quietly humming to her unborn again, those songs that even Robb still remembered and cherished to this day?

If he could just hold her now. Like he had done when she was here. It was his fault all alone. All those years he had been meticulously watching the moon, night by night. And suddenly she had won him over with a single tender look from her steel blue eyes. A sea he could drown in, time and time again.

It took a while for him to notice the presence of his visitors.

"I do believe, congratulations are in order", Varys said after he had finally lifted his head to look at them.

Petyr added: "You Starks really are a fertile lot, aren't you… Impressive!"

„Unthinkable what could happen to your poor lady wife if the council found out that she had been here in King's Landing. Just a short while ago…"

They came to stand side by side right in front of him, looking down on him as he finally cleared his throat to speak.

"No one must know. Do you hear me?"

It was more of a desperate plea than the order of a man of power. He had never felt more helpless than this very moment.

"Why are you even so worried?", Varys asked, the very false compassion vibrating in his voice that he mastered so skillfully, "You certainly won't believe in the Prophecy of the Seven, do you?"

"I don't. But that doesn't matter as long as there are enough men with swords and daggers who do. Who else saw her when she was here?"

"A few of my girls", Petyr said, "But they have no idea who she was. And the two men of the City Watch who brought her to me."

He sighed: „And what about them?"

"They will not say a word unless I allow it."

"Even if a substantial reward is on the line?"

"This information is invaluable, that is true", said Varys, "But maybe not as crucial as one shall think. The queen and Ser Jaime will convince the king to take actions against your wife, regardless of the true identity of the child's father - just to be sure! If only for taking revenge for what she has done to their brother."

He frantically shook his head: "They must not… They cannot!"

"Oh, don't worry, Mylord! They might only take the child. She will lose an amount of blood… But she should be fine."

"Littlefinger!", he begged, not daring to listen to it, "You made a promise to her. You must help me protect her!"

"Rest assured that I will do the best that I can", Petyr nodded as they turned to leave again, "If I can… Not only for her. But also for the sheer joy of watching all the humiliating looks on people's faces you will earn when this alleged bastard child is born."

Ned did not respond. He did not even care. He remained sitting there, his hands clenched around each other in his lap.

"I just miss her so much…", he whispered, certainly more to himself than the other two.

But Petyr turned around to look down at him, and with a weary smile answered: "Dreadful feeling… isn't it?"


	8. Chapter 8

She just missed him so much. The feeling was like a rope pulled tight around her chest, strangling her and making it almost impossible for her to breathe. A part of her wanted nothing but to turn around and run back to King's Landing, to fall into his arms. She felt weak and defeated. She felt as if with each day gone by without him, she lost a bit of her strength. She wondered whether she could have vanished into nothingness, once she would finally be back home.

She had lain down in the cool grass, resting in the shade of a tree fighting so desperately against the wind to keep its last precious leaves of summer. Suddenly there was a voice beside her that made her wince and open her eyes again.

"Forgive me this rather bold comment, Mylady", Tyrion said, „But it is meant in the most respectful manner… You're looking terrible."

"Thank you very much!", she said, turning her head to look away from him into the distance.

"You're pale… apart from your glowing cheeks. You're shivering, even though you look a bit sweaty. Have you fallen ill?"

"I'm deeply flattered by this accurate observation. But no, I don't think so." "Well, I do. In fact, I'm pretty sure you have caught a fever. You should take care of yourself! That can be pretty serious for a woman in your condition." She flared back at him and raised an eyebrow: "My… condition?"

He knew. So, the word must have gone out already. Probably everybody knew.

"You know", he remarked, "They say this kind of fever usually comes with worrying too much. But there's no need for you to worry, Mylady. If that babe of yours was Lord Stark's… You'd most likely already be dead by now."

She took a deep breath before replying: "Go!"

"I'm sorry if I…"

"No, just go! Leave!"

She struggled a little to get onto her feet, then took a few shaky steps back towards of the rest of her party, speaking up: "My dear friends! In am deeply grateful for everything you have done. But our journey ends here. Tyrion Lannister will be released in the next village that we pass. Ser Rodrik Cassel and I will continue north for Winterfell. As for you, you are free to go as you please. I will send your respects to my father, Lord Hoster Tully of Riverrun. Your kindness will not be forgotten."

In passing him, she did not deign the Halfman one more look. She walked over to her horse, reached out for the reins and stepped into the stirrup to pull herself to the top with everything that she had left.


	9. Chapter 9

Their dinner was silent. They were merely stirring up their soup, each of them thoroughly following his own train of thoughts. Suddenly Arya broke the silence: "Father, is it true that Mother is having another baby?"

He lifted his head to look at her. How did she know? And if she knew - who else did? He shivered thinking of the moment when every look he would get from anyone would be filled with nothing but pity, spite and scorn.

"Yes", he nodded.

"And is it true that the baby isn't yours? Like Jon isn't Mother's?"

He took a deep breath. He desperately wanted to tell them the truth. More than anything else. They should not be thinking wrong about him or their mother. But as much as he wanted it, he could not do it. He knew about the flaring tempers of his girls at times. And he was not entirely sure whether they would understand how crucial and even life-saving it could be to keep this secret. So he lied. And he hated himself for it, as soon as the word had dripped from his lips.

"Yes…"

The girls nodded quietly and looked back down into their bowls.

"Are you angry with Mother?", Sansa asked after a while, frightened, and begged, "Please, don't be angry with her! She loves you and no one but you. She would never want to hurt or humiliate you."

As serious as this conversation was, the terrified look on his eldest daughter's face made him smile as he shook his head.

"Don't worry, my dear, I'm not angry with Mother. Not much", he added after realizing that a slight hint of anger might be a matter of course in this, "I just hope that she is well."

Sansa nodded, not fully content with her father's answer: "Me too… She wasn't well at all when she had Rickon."

He shuddered at the memory of it. His wife had been but a shadow of herself then. They had not known whether she would live or die. But in the end she had shown them what she was really made of. She was a Stark after all.

Suddenly they were disturbed in their thoughts by a knock on the door. Jory Cassel stepped inside.

"I beg your pardon, Mylord. The king has just summoned a meeting of the council. There is news of Lady Catelyn."


	10. Chapter 10

He dashed into the room without waiting to be announced, breathlessly. His guts were twisting in apprehension. The other members of the council turned to look at him.

"What about my wife?", he asked without wasting any more time on a greeting of some sort.

"Calm down, Ned!", Robert insisted, "Come here, sit down, have a drink."

With nervous steps he came to sit next to him. But instead of filling his glass he repeated his question, fighting for a little more control over his tempers: "What's this news about my wife?"

Petyr explained: "We got word that she has released Tyrion Lannister and is now on her way back to Winterfell."

Ned closed his eyes and let out a deep sigh of relief: „Thank the Gods…"

"While it is a fortunate turn of events, without a doubt, that someone has apparently been able to talk some sense back into your lady wife, Lord Stark", Jaime said, "I'm afraid this change of heart might have come a little too late…"

His face darkened again into a deep frown.

"What do you mean? And what are you doing at a council meeting, anyway?"

But Jaime only cared to answer his first questions: "Well, my lord father was not too happy to have his son taken a prisoner… by a woman, of all people. He will already have taken means to put her in her place, I'm sure."

"She has released him, what else do you want?", Ned replied in a sudden fury, "She is with child! In that condition, women can come up with the strangest ideas, you know that just as well as I do. She wasn't herself when she took him, she has done nothing wrong! Your lord father will make a huge mistake if he does her any harm."

„Oh, will he, really? Considering in particular the matter we discussed last time, I shouldn't think so. I even prefer to believe that he would be doing the realm and all of its people a massive favour."

Robert sensed his friend losing it again, so he intervened quickly, dismissing the subject: "Jaime, we've already talked about that. The woman will live. I don't want her blood on my hands nor on yours."

"Indeed, killing Lady Catelyn would seem a little harsh to me, too, if I may say so", Petyr objected.

"Yes, Littlefinger, we all know that", Jaime said, "But thank you for the reminder! And I'm not talking about killing her. But she needs to be punished. For what she has done to my brother, to my family… and also, for all the shame she brought on our dear friend Eddard and the house Stark."

"She will not be punished for what she has done to your brother and to your family, this is a command from your king! And whether or not she will be for what she has done to Lord Stark is up to himself to decide."

He looked over to Ned, took a deep breath and continued in a softer voice: "However… I'm not so much worried about her as about the babe."

"To redeem myself", Jaime remarked pretentiously, "may I just remind you all that we wouldn't be in this situation if the council would have listened to my proposal to simply castrate Lord Stark after his last son was born."

"I did listen", Petyr murmured, "Very carefully…"

"Robert…", Ned urged, ignoring them both, "The child's not mine! It's not the seventh."

"What's the matter, then?", the king required, "Why are you so worried? It's your woman's bastard, for cryin' out loud! There's no more shattering a humiliation for a man than that. We could make an end to it before anyone takes notice. We've got experts here in King's Landing… I'm sure, Catelyn can handle it. And she will even understand! She must know how fortunate she is to have all the children that she bore living and growing, even the crippled one that fell from a tower!"

Ned could barely keep it together as he looked him in the eye and hissed: "How do you know what my wife can and cannot handle? She will be devastated! Killing her child would be the greater punishment for her than if you'd take her own life. I beg you, Robert… There is nothing to be frightened by! This child has nothing to do with the prophecy. Leave my wife in peace! Jaime was right… I have brought her a bastard… So she has the right to have one as well."

For a moment he thought that he had finally reached his friend's heart. But then Robert slammed his fist on the table and roared: "This is madness, Ned! How can you be so sure about that? How can we be so sure that you don't know more than you're telling us? It's all too much of a coincidence, Ned. 'The dragon will return and unite with the wolf, to rule and to conquer with ice and fire' - that's what the prophecy says. Daenerys, the dragon, breeding her little half-horse-half-human scum protected by the Dothraki across the Narrow Sea, at precisely the same time as the wolf lady of Winterfell? Ice and fire, Ned… Ice! 'Winter is coming'… Does that sound familiar to you? Isn't that what you've been boring people with for years? Let me tell you something: No one ever cared or even knew what you meant. Until now…"

Before Ned could answer, and he did not know how subservient he could have made it sound, Varys cleared his throat and raised his voice for the first time: "If I may interrupt, Your Grace, since the dicussion seems to be heating up… I will just say that we probably don't have to worry about the matter for much longer. It might eventually resolve itself."

"Why?", Robert asked what Ned did not dare to.

"I have heard from someone who saw her recently on her journey. She's looking like the Stranger himself. The poor thing caught a fever on the road. Barely able to mount her horse. They say she's going home to Winterfell to bid her farewell."

Ned felt the words stab deep inside his chest like a thousand swords, draining all life from his body. He remembered how he used to hold her last time she had the fever. Later she would tell him that she would not have made it through without him by her side. He knew that it was true. So now the fever had returned. And who would hold her now?

"Alright, then. This should be enough for now", Robert sighed as he saw that his Hand had already left them moments ago.

He got up and firmly patted his shoulder as he passed him on his way out: "Just go… Get some rest!"


	11. Chapter 11

She lay resting on her blanket on the ground, feeling the moist chill and every irregularity of the surface through the woolen fabric. She was shivering and her breath came and went sharply but wearily. Ser Rodrik watched in utter trepidation.

"We will have reached Winterfell by dusk", he said, fully aware that she was not asleep, "We are almost home, my lady."

"The children…", she whispered, her eyes still closed, "Robb… Rickon… Bran!"

"Yes, my lady, they will happily be celebrating your return."

"Has the news reached Winterfell yet?"

"I cannot say."

She sighed and her face tensed in pain.

"They will all think that… And no one will know that I was always true to my lord husband."

"Your husband will know. And your children… Your oldest, at least. That needs to be enough."

"It isn't…", she replied and added after a moment of silence, "What if the babe looks just like him?"

"That is not very likely, my lady. Your other children, for the most part, don't look like their father either."

She opened her eyes to look at him, but he was cautiously avoiding it.

"I have always wanted another child. But Ned did not. I was not meant to go through all of it again, he said. It was too dangerous. And I understood. We were always so careful. But this time…"

"Careful is nice, my lady", Ser Rodrik said and even allowed for a smile on his face, "Only careful so hardly stands a chance when love and longing come into play."

She fought her own smile, with little success.

"He shall come home to Winterfell", she whispered, "He belongs with me and his family… I need him."

"He will be of greater help where he is now. He has to calm the rough sea boiling under the Red Keep. He can't do anything for you up in the North, other than what Maester Luwin's wisdom can do."

She bit her lower lip to suppress any further argument, her eyes closed, filling up with tears.

"We'd rather be going, my lady", he finally proclaimed after allowing her a moment of pain, "The sooner we'll be back, the better."

She would continue on his mount, held by her faithful Master-at-Arms. She was not capable of riding by herself anymore.


	12. Chapter 12

When they reached the castle grounds, she was barely even conscious. Robb was working his steel with Theon Greyjoy in the courtyard. His sword slid from his hand and fell to the frosty ground with a clatter.

"Mother!", he exhaled.

With the help of Ser Rodrik he lifted her limp body from the horse's back and carried her inside and up the tower steps to her room that had been deserted since the day she had left. Her eyes were closed. But he could hear her whisper his name. And he knew that she was happy to be back home.

—-

The girls looked up from their plates in utter confusion and both yelled in unified disbelief: "What?"

"I want you to go to your rooms and pack your things after dinner", their father repeated calmly, "We're going back to Winterfell. We're leaving tonight."

"But… but…", Sansa was looking for a way to provide her voice with the relevant conviction, "We CAN'T! Our home is here now. I will marry Prince Joffrey, I love him!"

"And I have to finish my dance lessons!", Arya added.

"No back talk now, we're going home!", Ned Stark insisted with the stern voice of the lord that he was, then whispered in the trembling tone of a husband fearing for his wife, "Your mother's not feeling well. She needs us. All of us."

Arya's hard face grew softer: "Mother is ill?"

He nodded. He did not want to frighten the girls. But he felt they had to know the truth, or else they would never understand.

"Yes. But she will be very happy to see all of us back home in Winterfell. It will give her strength. This is why we must go. I want you to pack just a few things that you will need on the way. We won't travel in a large party and we want to be fast. And don't tell anyone, do you hear me?", he sighed and turned to leave, "I first have to speak to the king…"

On his way out he ordered Jory Cassel to have an eye on the girls. Then he was out the door.

He was held up on his way to the king's chambers by a familiar yet not welcome voice.

"Lord Stark!", Petyr Baelish remarked, "What an unexpected sight in these halls, at this hour."

Ned tried to pass him but failed to succeed.

"What do you want, Littlefinger?"

"I was hoping to learn what your business is."  
>"My business is none of yours", he replied and forcefully pushed him out of the way. He just had no time for his gameplay right now.<p>

Littlefinger stumbled against the wall and yelled after him, prompting him to halt: "I love her, Stark! Maybe not in the same way as you. But I care for her just as much as you do. I would die for her. I would kill for her."

Ned took a deep breath, then turned around and said, almost in a whisper: "I'm going home. I'm here to ask Robert's permission."

"That he will never give."

"Then I will leave without it. She needs me."

He did not notice the fear in his own eyes until Petyr assured him: "I will do anything that I can to protect her. And you better memorize what I have just said. Because if you leave and give up your power, it will be everything you have got."

He looked at him, then stepped closer, grabbed him by the shoulders and pressed him against the wall: "Now you better memorize this: You said you would kill for her… I hope you will keep that promise once you get the chance. Because if you don't, then I - with all the gods, the old and the new as my witnesses - will kill you. Do you understand?"

"Perfectly well, my lord", he answered, almost accomplishing to keep his posture without shaking.

"Good!"

Ned let go of him and continued on his way.


End file.
